


What's In A Name?

by OhBelieveYouMe



Series: One Of The Hundreds From The Train [2]
Category: Company - Sondheim/Furth
Genre: Bachelor life, Broadway, Dating, F/M, Musicals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 14:23:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8288855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhBelieveYouMe/pseuds/OhBelieveYouMe
Summary: “You’re a very special girl, and not because you’re bright-Not just because you’re bright…”





	

He thought he had felt her move; but before he could actually wake up, she was already out of the bed. “Where ya going?” Robert asked dreamily, squinting to try and see her through the darkness. It was hard to miss those crimson tresses.

“Home.” Oh, okay then. She unblushingly dressed in the dim light coming in through the windows- even at night, you can’t escape the illumination of the city. Groping knowingly here or there, she eventually managed to gather at least most of her clothes. “Do you see my hose?”

Robert leaned over to the other side of the bed- he knew exactly where they were, he had been the one to take them off. “Yea, catch;” she turned expectantly at his demand, but he paused, and refused to throw them. “Why don’t you stay a bit?”

She cocked her head to the side, red hair flowing like a river of fire along her neck. “Why would I, Dear?” Crawling across the covers, clad in just a bra and panties at this point, she went to snatch for the hostage pantyhose.

He chuckled, holding them up higher and further away as she lunged over him. “Because, we can go eat in the morning, or something.” Leaning up, he managed to lay a few succinct kisses along her collar bone. “And it’s dark, I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I let you walk home this late.”

She pressed her cool hand against his chest, applying pressure to get him off of her and back onto his pillows. “You’re not a gentleman, you took me home the night you met me.” The accusation stung despite her jocular tone, likely the burn of truth, and he obediently handed over her hose. “Thank you, Darling.” He was rewarded with a kiss, one that didn’t last long enough if you asked him.

“I can be, let me try again,” Robert suggested smartly, sitting back up straight so he could watch her roll the sheer black coverings up her pale legs. “I know a great place for brunch-”

She giggled an interruption, “brunch?” Her crushed velvet dress was pulled on over her head, the material seemed to shimmer before his eyes. He thought back to how soft it had been when he had his hands on her back at the bar.

“Yea,” He came up behind her after she sat on the bed to work on her shoes. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he managed to pull her up to his chest, and she smiled when he rest his chin on her shoulder. “Best of both worlds, but with mimosas.”

“Oh, Honey,” left leg dropped when she finished tying the laces, and she leaned back to rest her head against him. “That’s so like you.”

He perked a brow, “What do you mean?” Again, he went to kissing whatever he could reach, currently the soft lobe of her ear. Her saccharine giggles filled the apartment and he couldn’t help but smile. “Just stay a minute.”

“Oh stop, will ya?” She pushed at his cheek with her fingertips, putting space between their faces. Right shoe completed, she tried to rise to her feet, but he held her down the best he could.

“Just for tonight,” Robert begged, but was left alone so she didn’t have to repeat herself. “Can I at least get your number?” He asked gently, as if expecting a rejection. He was right.

She shook her head, the fiery waterfall falling onto her cheeks and into her green eyes. “You can’t always get the best of both worlds, Honey.”

“Why not?” Robert reached for her, but she only gifted him her hands. “Just stay,” he pouted, hoping the charm that got her into his bed could pull through for him at least once more tonight. “Why do you have to go?” It’s easier to argue a point when you know what you’re fighting against.

“I don’t.” She giggled and it hurt him, somewhere deep and odd. She pulled her hands away from him, and cupped his face in one palm. “I just can’t stay.” Her head shook, solemnly, but she certainly didn’t seem sad about it.

“Why not?” He imagined he looked like a child who’d been refused candy. “You know, you’re a very special girl-”

The hand that he had coddled his cheek into was removed and held out in front of his lips. “Oh stop,” she was growing agitated, maybe even angry? He couldn’t tell, but it was odd. “Darling, you’ll forget all of this in a few days,” she plucked her earrings back into place, “you don’t even remember my name-”

Offended, he actually recoiled from her. “Delilah,” he advised sternly. Maybe they had just met, but he certainly remembered her name. She was memorable, truly, for reasons beyond the obvious carnal ones.

The beautiful redhead froze, and gave him a look that made him think she was going to wilt away. Or, at least, that she wished she could. Nibbling on her bottom lip, she finally turned away from him, giving him the cold shoulder while bouncing herself nearer to the door. “I really need to go.”

Realization dawned over Robert like a hot summer wind, and his jaw fell open. “You don’t remember my name.” He accused in a hush, as if speaking it too loudly would influence the truth behind it.

“I like a mystery,” she wasn’t even sorry, and Robert wanted to crawl into a hole of self pity and rot. Once everything was gathered, and she was satisfied with her appearance in a nearby mirror, she shot the smile that had wooed him so his way. “Have a good night, Honey.”

“It’s Bobby.” He responded softly, feeling cold despite the blankets covering him. Did a window get opened, was there a draft? Or was that what real rejection felt like?

She flinched, before whisking herself away through the door. “Good night, Bobby.”

Strange Delilah left, and Robert could only roll over in the sheets. It’s funny how it can feel when the tables turn, isn’t it? How something you’ve done to others before can sting ten times worse? Not because of the act, necessarily, Robert could recover from this- but because you knew you’ve incited the same chill in others?

He made a mental note to call ~~Ju~~ … April in the morning, to say her name hundreds of times over in the voicemail he’d have to leave since she was gone in Barcelona or Madrid. He’d forget Delilah, he decided. She’d forget him, anyways. It wasn’t meant to be. And he’d gladly enjoy his brunch tomorrow. 

Alone.


End file.
